


Interlude: Just Enough Time

by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)



Series: The Ballad of a Dove [10]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 03:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8354698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiasobi_writes/pseuds/hollyandvice
Summary: In the depths of space, it's hard to tell where day ends and night begins. Lance likes it that way. Well, most of the time.
Lance relearns his team, and how his new mind and body fit in the old system.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This interlude follows the events of Part 9 almost to the letter, but from Lance's perspective. I needed a break from Keith's POV/transition to Lance's POV for part 11, and this seemed like as good a bridge as any. As always, a huge thank you to [Tina](http://idoltina.tumblr.com/) for the beta despite this not being her fandom. You are an angel and I love you so much!
> 
> [Reblog from here!](http://hollyandvice.tumblr.com/post/152185992978/fic-interlude-just-enough-time) Fic and series title from [If I Die Young by The Band Perry](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7NJqUN9TClM).

In the depths of space, it's hard to tell where day ends and night begins. Lance likes it that way. Well, most of the time.

\----

Sometimes Lance catches himself staring at Shiro's arm, jealousy in his veins. There's an ease to the way Shiro uses it, a comfort in the way he moves with it, and it makes a quiet sort of envy twist in his stomach. Because his own leg feels like a curse, a damning weight that's dragging him down, drowning him in his own self-loathing.

Shiro catches him at it more than once, but he politely looks away. Lance is pretty sure Shiro knows what's going through his head, but has the decency not to confront him about it. It's a cold comfort, but one that Lance will gladly accept. He goes on staring, goes on watching, and finds himself hoping for the day that his own leg feels as normal as Shiro's arm seems to.

It's as they're training together one day not too long after his anger at Keith finally came to a head that Lance finds it in himself to ask.

"How do you do it?" he asks, ducking under a jab from Shiro's metal arm. He pops back up and lands two quick blows before dodging out of Shiro's reach. "How do you use that… that _thing_ like it's no big deal?"

Shiro doesn't respond for a solid fifteen seconds, taking advantage of Lance's distraction to close the gap between them and take him down, pinning him to the ground. Then he pulls back, looking into Lance's eyes thoughtfully. "Practice," he finally settles on. "Lots and lots of practice."

Lance hums, unconvinced, and Shiro gives a wry smirk.

"But you have to remember, Lance, things were different for me."

Lance blinks. "How so?"

"The Galra captured my crew. I spent weeks in the Gladiator ring, fighting off the worst of the worst the Galra could throw at me. I lost my arm fighting for my life, and my options were to get another one or die. It was no choice at all. Things were different for me."

Lance looks away, shame curling hot and sharp in his stomach. "I get it. I just turned myself over to them."

Shiro huffs, sounding frustrated, and gets to his feet, offering his Galra hand to Lance to pull him up. Lance can't quite stifle the flinch, and Shiro responds automatically, reaching out with his human hand instead. Lance takes it, letting Shiro help him up. "That's not what I meant. I meant that you made a very different choice than I did. You turned yourself over to them, true, but you did it to save the universe. To save your team. It was a calculated risk and it may not have turned out the way you thought it would, but it turned out a damn sight better than it would have if we'd had to find a new pilot for Blue. I know you're hurting, and I know that can't be easy, but for what it's worth, I'm glad you were brave enough to put yourself through that. It would have been hell trying to fly Voltron without you. Not to mention what it would have done to Keith."

Lance can't stop the laugh that bubbles out of his throat. Shiro's right, and, for the first time, Lance wonders if maybe throwing in with the Galra _wasn't_ the worst idea he's ever had.

\----

When Lance shifts as though to leave Keith's bed, the wrinkles that mar Keith's forehead as he sleeps are sometimes the only thing that keeps Lance there. Sometimes, knowing he's causing his bondmate distress is enough to quell the storm in his chest that keeps him awake during the rest hours. But only sometimes.

\----

Lance knows Allura probably isn't the one to ask. The two Galra women seem to have a deeper understanding of this whole bond thing than she does, and, intellectually, Lance knows that if he wants good information, he should go to the experts rather than a relative novice. But, for all that Child and Keith and everyone else tells him the two Galra are safe, he still doesn't fully trust them. He spent too long in limbo, suffering at the hands of Galra far more dangerous than them to feel comfortable trusting them yet.

So he goes to Allura and Coran instead.

He catches them in the kitchen after breakfast and dances around the subject for as long as Coran's patience will allow before he finally cuts to the chase and asks.

"Am I always going to miss her?" Lance blurts out. Coran frowns, looking confused, but Allura's face softens in understanding before he can even finish the thought. "Am I always going to miss… Karala?"

Allura reaches out, her hand warm and solid on his. "Do you miss her now?"

Lance bites his lip, looking away.

Allura sighs. "I'm no expert in the art and science of soulbonds, Lance. That's much more Zheerun's area of expertise than mine. I have never been bonded, voluntarily or otherwise. So whether or not you will go on missing her… I'm afraid I cannot say."

"I can," Coran says, voice soft and honest. Lance looks up at him, hopeful, only to feel fear grip his chest when he catches sight of Coran's eyes. "I can say."

Lance swallows, suddenly uncertain whether or not he wants to hear the truth. But he came to them with a question, and he'll be damned if he doesn't see it through. "You were bonded?"

Coran nods. "I was. He… I lost him in that final battle shortly before going into the sleep pod. I won't deny that some part of me hoped I might never wake up--it hurt that much." He glances at Allura, something soft in his gaze, though she won't meet his eyes, her own face distant and sad. "But I survived and I woke and I found something else to live for." Coran shakes his head, clears his throat, and turns back to Lance. "I still miss him. I always will. But it softens with time, and it becomes tolerable, even without the added comfort of a new bondmate. With Keith looking out for you, I imagine you shall recover even sooner than I did."

Lance snorts, looking away. "Yeah," he says quietly, "looking out for me. That's one way of putting it."

"He is," Coran says sharply, cutting through Lance's melancholy. "In his own way, he is. Just as Karala did before him. You are protected, Lance, and that is something to be thankful for, I assure you."

Lance purses his lips, holding back the need to shout that he didn't _ask_ to be protected, that he doesn't _want_ to be protected, that he doesn't _need_ to--

Allura's fingers tighten around his. "It may not be what you asked for, Lance, but it is the path you and Keith walk together now." Lance can only nod. Allura reaches out, gently tucking his hair behind his ear and tilting his head up. "And, no matter what you may want, we are all here to protect you. You can protect us too. That's what family is, isn't it?"

Lance isn't sure when Coran slipped out of the room, but as he looks into Allura's certain gaze, he knows that she's right. They're family, and, for as long as they're trapped out here together, they'll protect each other just as fiercely as if they were blood. That's all that matters now.

\----

Perhaps the best part of the sleep cycle is the fact that Lance can't catch sight of himself in the mirror. That he can ignore the aches and pains, even if he can't ignore the memories. That, in the darkness of the castle in the vastness of space, he can pretend for a few blissful hours that nothing's changed, even though he knows everything has.

\----

Lance can't shake the easy smile on his face as Hunk talks about all the improvements he and Coran and Pidge had been working on for the lions in Lance's absence. Lance doesn't understand most of what Hunk is saying, but the familiar cadence of his voice is enough to settle Lance in the same way that quiet moments with Keith do. It's easy and familiar in a way that so little in Lance's life is these days.

He doesn't realize how far he's sunk into his own mind until the comforting ebb and flow of Hunk's voice comes to a standstill. Lance blinks and shakes off his distraction, smiling at Hunk. "Sorry, what?"

Hunk just watches him, a tiny crease in his forehead. "Lance, if you don't want--"

"No, I like listening!" Lance hurries to reassure him. "I'm sorry I spaced out, I just…." He swallows. "Sometimes it's easier to just listen to you talk, you know? Without being expected to contribute anything." Hunk watches him for a long moment before nodding slowly. There's still a question in his eyes, though, and Lance waits him out while he finds the words. Hunk makes an aborted movement toward Lance, and Lance tilts his head in question. "You okay?"

"The burn scars," Hunk starts, then stops himself, apparently collecting his thoughts. "The burn scars," he starts again, "why didn't the Druids ever heal them?"

Lance feels himself go stiff for a moment before consciously forcing himself to relax. "Those first few weeks…." Lance rubs idly at the back of his neck, thinking. "Those first few weeks they were more focused on getting my leg built and installed than anything else. The burn scars weren't even on their radar." Hunk's eyes are wide and a little frightened, but Lance forges ahead anyway. "By the time they finished with my leg, it was too late to heal the scars. They'd set, and they didn't respond to the healing pods."

Hunk swallows, eyes flicking from the scars on Lance's cheek to his eyes and back again. Somehow, implicitly, Lance understands.

He leans forward, turning his cheek toward Hunk. "It's okay," he says softly. "You can touch them."

Hunk reaches out, his fingers trembling, only to stop short and stand abruptly when the door behind him slides open. Lance turns to meet Keith's eyes, wondering idly what the scene must look like to him. Keith's eyes flick between Hunk and Lance, and understanding slowly dawns. A thick, cloying sensation resonates down the bond, and Lance almost chokes on it before Keith gets it under control. Lance swallows as Keith turns to leave, unwilling to soothe what he realizes must have been Keith's guilt. The two of them have far enough to go with each other, and rushing things won't help matters. There is too much at stake and too many chances for unintended hurt if they rush things. So Lance turns back to Hunk, letting Keith's intrusion be nothing but a memory.

"So," Lance says, feigning levity. "Tell me more about the improvements you've been working on for the lions."

\----

When the darkness sweeps over the castle. When the hum of the ship's engines are the strongest reminder to Lance that he's safe. When Keith is still with sleep beside him. Those are the moments where Lance lets his guard down enough to mourn. He's never sure what exactly he's mourning, but he knows, somehow, that there is still so much farther to go before he can rest. So he lets the darkness be his companion and hopes--not for a return to what was, for that is impossible, but for closure.

\----

Pidge is the only one who doesn't push when Lance comes to sit with them. It's at once comforting and a little off-putting. Everyone else has been watching out for him when he comes to talk to them, looking for something just as real as what he has with Keith. Maybe something more real. For all his former bravado with the team and all his present reassurances to Keith, Lance can't ignore the quiet loneliness that has settled in his bones ever since they saved him from the Galra. It's been soothed some by the bond with Keith, eased by his constant presence, but Lance knows it's not going to be enough. He's pretty sure Keith knows it too, if the way he's been slowly easing off his completely unsubtle shadowing is any indication. So Lance takes his freedom when he can get it and revels in the space and time that sitting with Pidge grants him.

Today, though. Today, he kind of wishes that Pidge would ask him what's wrong. But they won't, and if Lance wants any answers out of them, he'll have to ask for them himself.

"Listen, Pidge," he starts, and immediately he has the entirety of Pidge's not-insignificant attention focused on him. "Can I tell you something?"

Pidge nods, seriousness and intensity in their features. "Anything you want, Lance."

For a split second, Lance considers making light of the situation, tossing out a joke and pretending he'd never come here with a serious question. But Pidge would see right through him, and even if they wouldn't, it feels disingenuous to his own intentions not to ask what he came here to ask. So Lance opens his mouth to speak. "I've been…." He swallows, his so carefully chosen words now escaping him. "I've been having these… these nightmares. Ever since I bonded with Keith. And about a week after the bonding I started seeing things. Zarkon, and the Druids that--" Lance stops short, still unwilling to say the word aloud, but needing Pidge to understand, but the word is stuck in his throat and--

"Tortured you," Pidge supplies, voice at once gentle and without emotion. "The Druids that tortured you.

Lance nods. "And I'm just--" Lance swallows, fighting through the thickness in his throat. "I'm just so tired of never being sure what's real and what isn't and I… I don't know how much longer I can do this."

Somehow, just saying the words loosens something in Lance's chest. He blinks, a little dazed, and lets the reality settle in his chest.

He's scared, yes, but he's not alone. And that's a start.

Pidge lets out a sharp breath through their nose, rubbing a hand over their face. "Look, Lance. This isn't exactly my area of expertise. I don't know how--"

"I don't need you to help me, Pidge. Not yet. Someday I might need that, but right now…. Right now I just needed somebody to know."

Pidge stares at him, looking confused. Then, slowly, they nod. "Alright. Do you want me to--"

"No," Lance says, neither needing nor wanting to know what Pidge was about to offer. "I don't want you to do anything right now. I just. I needed someone to know."

Pidge nods again. "That sounds fair." They turn back to their tinkering, still looking thoughtful. It's a good ten minutes later when they look back up at him, a question in their eyes. "Why me?"

"Because I knew you'd let me leave it at that," Lance says.

He watches as Pidge's mind goes a mile a minute, catching up with what Lance isn't saying. "It's not just hallucinations. You think there's something more to what you're seeing." Lance nods. "But you don't want anyone to know what it is." Lance nods again, and Pidge's lips thin. "I'll keep your secret, Lance, but the second you think there's real danger--"

"I'll tell everyone. I'll tell them as soon as I know what it is, but in the meantime… in the meantime, Pidge, please, just don't--"

"I won't tell, Lance. I know as well as anyone how important secrets are. I promise I won't tell, if you promise you won't let this go too far."

Lance agrees automatically. "I promise."

In the end, it's an easy promise to keep.

\----

Keith stirs beside him, and Lance doesn't know his reckoning is finally here. All he knows is that Keith's mumbling to him, reaching for him, unknowingly stilling the anxiety and hurt in every cell of his body. Lance can't sleep, but here, now, that doesn't seem to matter, because Keith can, and Keith trusts him enough to sleep beside him. To be as vulnerable as it is possible to be with another person. It's enough to make Lance think that maybe, one day, he'll be able to do the same again. Not now, and not any time soon, but someday.

Someday.

"Did I wake you?"

**Author's Note:**

> [Come hang with me on tumblr!!](http://hollyandvice.tumblr.com/)


End file.
